


Linked

by totallyrhettro



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Sex, Astral Projection, Blow Jobs, Coma, Don't be scared by the following tags:, Established Main Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Ghost Hunting, Ghost Sex, Ghostly Figure, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Happy Ending as Promised, Happy endings guaranteed, Haunting, Hearing Voices, I promise, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Invisible Partner, Late at Night, M/M, Masturbation, Medical, Mistaken Identity, Not Really Character Death, Pining, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sex, Tags Contain Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-09-30 00:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17213615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallyrhettro/pseuds/totallyrhettro
Summary: Months after losing his best friend, Rhett is visited by something unexpected.AU universe, present day, where Rhett and Link are roommates and aren’t married.





	1. Chapter 1

A tall figure stood in a field of grass and tombstones, staring at a stone plaque with a somber expression on his face. He came here every Sunday, sometimes to talk, sometimes with a guitar, but on days like this he would just stand, quietly, thinking about things he didn’t let himself think in any other place. Every other day he kept these thoughts locked up, but here, with only stone angels as company, he let them flow. The questions that haunted his mind wandered freely now, questions of how the world had come to this, how he had come to be in this place of utmost sorrow, and how he had come to lose his best friend, Link Neal.

Rhett wished they would have bought something bigger, but gravestones were expensive and he knew Link would appreciate a low budget landmark. Maybe if there was a huge, angelic statue marking the grave site it would lend more reality to the situation. Instead, an unceremonious bit of rock lay, almost hidden, in the grass.

**Charles Lincoln Neal III**

**June 1, 1978 - November 23, 2014**

The quiet giant read those words every time he came to visit, but it never made it completely real. It never made it easier. Thirty years of friendship cut far too short leaving only an empty hole deep inside. It was all he could do to carry on. After the funeral in Buies Creek, he’d flown back to his house in L.A. and locked himself up for days, and just cried. He had never cried so much in his entire life, but suddenly he couldn’t stop.

When he finally emerged, he contacted the mythical morning crew and told them that it was over. No more Good Mythical Morning, no more Ear Biscuits, nothing. He just couldn’t do any of it without Link. They argued with him, saying Link would have wanted them to continue, but he ignored their arguments. He apologized, sorry that all had to find new employment, but he couldn’t even face the studio now that his co-host, his blood brother, was gone.

“I miss you.” He managed to say, wringing his hands together. The gravestone said nothing, as always, but Rhett felt better saying it. He wished he knew what more to say. He wished he’d said more when Link was alive. There was so much he never told him, so many times he could have, but he was afraid. Afraid of losing their friendship by ruining it with stupid words. Well now he had lost him, and all those times when he had held back his true feelings came flooding back, tearing at him, at his soul. All that time, loving him in secret. Time wasted, time lost. It seemed so pointless now.

With a sigh, the blond man left the grave and headed back to his car. He had to catch a flight back to L.A. soon. They had buried Link in Buies Creek for his family, and Rhett had moved back to North Carolina to so he could visit him every week while he worked through his grief. His own parents suggested he stay back home, but he wanted to move back to California. He wanted to be there and maybe move on with his life. He felt that he couldn’t do that here.

Part of him wanted to stay in Buies Creek, but he knew he just couldn’t. Each time he visited the cemetery he told himself this was the last time, he wouldn’t do it again, but every weekend, as Sunday came nearer, he felt a draw on his soul to see Link again. ' _One more time,_ ’ he thought. ' _One more time and then I can let him go._ ’ So he came back, again and again, but each time it just hurt all over again, reading that plaque, remembering Link was really dead.

It had been over half a year since he had gotten the call, telling him about Link’s death. They said the metro train he had been on had crashed; some idiot had driven on the track and the whole thing derailed. Rhett didn’t even get a proper goodbye, as the funeral was closed casket. Apparently the crash had been brutal and done a number on Link’s body. Rhett didn’t say much at the service, he could barely look Link’s folks in the eye. He couldn’t shake the feeling that his friend’s death could have been prevented, that it was somehow his fault.

' _Why didn’t I drive him that day?_ ’ He thought, time and again. ' _I shouldn’t have let him take the train._ ’ Link’s car had been in the shop that week, but he needed to get somewhere, Rhett couldn’t remember where. He had offered his friend a ride, several times, but Link was insistent, saying he would be fine taking public transportation. ' _Damn it Link. Why do you have to be so... stubborn._ ’

~ ~ ~

Back in his Los Angeles abode, after an exhausting five hour flight he just wanted to collapse onto his bed and sleep for days. He lay on his bed, face buried in his pillow, and tried to empty his mind. It was only seven o'clock but having crossed several time zones to get here, it felt much later. Still, his aching head refused to let him sleep. Coming back here, to California, where he and his best friend had worked together, lived together, side by side for so long, had caused decades of memories to resurface. Everywhere he looked he was reminded of Link, things they did, things they said… things they didn’t say. 

Walking around the house, where he and Link had lived and worked over the years, he felt as if his friend was still there. Every time he turned a corner, or entered a room, he thought he was going to see Link, sitting here, or standing there, or walking through a doorway, his lopsided grin lighting up the room. Every time he wasn’t there, of course he wasn’t. Every time Rhett’s heart sank all over again until finally he just couldn’t take it anymore.

' _Maybe it was a mistake, coming back,_ ’ he thought, laying in bed one night. It had been hard, living in Buies Creek, where he expected to see Link every time he turned around, and now it was hard living in L.A. for the same reason. He stared at the ceiling and sighed. ' _I need to move on._ ’ It was clear now that he had to leave both North Carolina and California for someplace new. Someplace that didn’t remind him of Link at every turn. Closing his eyes he felt tears streaming down his face. It would be hard, leaving all that he knew, but he had to. The memories of his friend were threatening to eat away at him from the inside.

Resolved in his decision, he finally managed to fall asleep. Tomorrow he would look for a new place to live, a new state preferably. It was time to start a new life. It was time for a fresh start, and even though he knew it would hurt, it was time to let Link go.


	2. Chapter 2

Finding a new job turned out to be the easy part. Rhett decided to put his civil engineering degree to use and he found some open positions in Montana, a great big state where he could easily find a place to live, far away from anyone. Being back in the city for less than a week, after so many months living back in a small town, already left him socially exhausted, aggravating his gloomy state. Always the introvert, it was made so much worse without his friend with him to soften the edges. He couldn’t wait to leave.

Unfortunately, he had to sell his current residence before settling into a new one and the current house market, according to his realtor, would make it very difficult to sell.

“I can show it to a few people,” she had said, “but people just aren’t buying, not for the price it’s worth anyway.”

“Just do what you can," Rhett told her. "I want out if this place as soon as possible.”

“I’ll do my best.”

While he waited for word from her, Rhett kept busy. He occupied his mind with Netflix, staying clear of YouTube and all social media as he had since Link died. He was browsing the documentary section at one point when he felt something brush his shoulder. He turned, sharply, but there was no one there. It had felt so real. After a minute of staring at nothing he sighed and shook his head, chalking it up to a wearied mind.

“Don’t start losing it, McLaughlin,” he said to himself. “Just hold out a bit longer and you’ll be out of this state.”

That night he dreamt about Link. It had been a long time since he’d done that. Being back in the house they had shared for so long brought the memories even closer to the surface.

He woke with a start, screaming his friend’s name, but within moments he couldn’t remember most of the details of the dream. They had been at the GMM studio but Link had been injured and was bleeding out. Rhett was trying, in vain, to stop the bleeding when he woke up, certain that his friend had just died in his arms. He wanted to shout, to punch someone, or break something, but instead he dropped his face into his hands and wept.

“Link,” he whispered between sobs. “Why did you leave me?” As he sat there in his bed, tears streaming down his face, he felt a strange sense of warmth come over him. A shiver ran down his spine and he looked up, fully expecting to see someone standing over him. There was no one there, only shadows in the darkness. He held his breath, listening, and he heard a soft voice.

“Rhett…” It was softer than a whisper, so soft he almost thought he had imagined it. He was never one to hear voices that weren’t there, but there was something in this voice, something familiar. He waited to hear if the voice came again, but there was only silence now. Laying back down he told himself it must have been the wind, playing tricks on him, but though it had been so quiet, it had also been crystal clear. Clear, and unmistakable.

‘ _No,_ ’ he told himself. ‘ _Just the wind._ ’

~ ~ ~

Over the next few days, Rhett began to feel a strange presence with him, almost all the time. A warm aura seemed to follow him, usually accompanied by a phantom touch on his arm, or back. Each time he’d turn around, fully expecting someone to be there, but no one ever was. He began to feel like he was going mad.

At night, he wouldn’t always dream, but when he did it was usually of Link. Sometimes they were happy dreams, memories of past closeness that he now missed. Other times they were nightmares, terrible visions of Link dying in various ways. Every time he’d wake up crying, call out for his friend, and he’d feel the same presence as before, and every time he’d pause and hear the voice, saying his name.

“Rhett…”

“Is someone there?” he asked, sitting in bed one night. Certain now that it was not the wind, he was determined to find out if he had indeed gone insane, or if someone was playing a cruel joke on him. It seemed an eternity, as he stared into the darkened room, waiting for a response he wasn’t sure he would receive. His heart raced, hoping against all hope that he would get the one and only answer he wanted, but never dared to wish for. Minutes ticked by but they felt like hours. Finally he heard a single word, even quieter than the first.

“Yes.”

Rhett felt his blood run cold, and adrenaline started filling his veins. With a swift motion he flipped on the light and turned to see who, or what, had intruded on his bedroom. Nothing. The room looked exactly as it had before he went to bed, hours earlier. Feeling a bit like a scared little kid whose parents weren’t home, Rhett jumped out of bed and ran to turn on the light in the hall. Nothing. No burglar hiding in the shadows, no axe murderer waiting to jump out at him. After a pause, he turned off the hall light, sheepishly walked back into his bedroom and sat on the bed.

' _I’m being silly,_ ’ he thought. ' _Jumping at noises in the night._ ’ He rubbed his tired eyes as he waited for his racing heart to slow back to normal. ' _There’s no one there, and you’re too old to believe in ghosts._ ’ As that last word passed through his mind he paused, considering, then laughed right out loud.

“There’s no such thing as ghosts,” he muttered. Then, growing bolder when he the house didn’t answer, he called out, like a challenge: “There are no ghosts!” He sat there waiting, his heart still pounding in his chest. No answer. With a smug grin on his face, he settled back into bed. He chuckled softly to himself, amused by his own childish fear. He turned off the nightstand light and tucked himself in. For a few minutes he felt fine, satisfied that his mind was just playing tricks on him, but in the silence of that darkened room, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him.

~ ~ ~

The next morning he got a call from his realtor, Mrs. Gable, updating him on his prospects. Unfortunately, no one had even asked to see the place yet.

“It’s a great neighborhood, the house is in fine shape, what’s the problem?” he asked.

“People just aren’t buying,” she told him. “Look, I’m doing the best I can, you just have to be patient.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… I’m eager to move, that’s all.” It was mostly true. It had been true when he first called her, but now their was something else, something eerie about the place that he couldn’t wait to be free of. ' _Not a ghost, or anything,_ ’ he assured himself.

After a quick shower and even quicker breakfast, Rhett set himself at the computer to look for houses for sale in his state of choice: Montana. It had been a long time since he moved last, but he’d done it enough times to know what he was looking for. A nice, small place, out of the way but not to far from work. If he had his way he would buy a cottage in the middle of nowhere and completely seclude himself from civilization all together, but he couldn’t afford to do that. He needed to work somewhere. Still, a house in a remote town in the suburbs could be a good compromise.

Around noon, as he was searching on the internet for awhile, his neck started to ache from being hunched over the computer for so long. He leaned back in his chair, groaning, and tried to rub the pain away. As he tried to work the sore muscles with his hand, he felt someone else touch his neck. Two hands, strong but very gentle, began to rub his neck in small circles. Spinning around, he almost fell out of the chair trying to see who was behind him. No one. He was alone in the room. The feeling of hands had disappeared, but his skin could still remember the touch, vividly. Someone had been touching him, he was sure of that now.

Taking a few calming breaths, Rhett turned back around in the chair and tried to calm down. He leaned back, trying to sit exactly as he had before, but he felt like he was vibrating with nerves. Closing his eyes, he told himself to chill out.

' _It’s okay,_ ’ he thought. ' _Everything’s fine._ ’ After a few minutes of deep breaths, his body relaxed, his heart slowed, and the goosebumps that had formed on his arms faded away. His neck still hurt. He twisted it, unconsciously, as he fidgeted in his seat, trying not to think about how bad the pain was. Hoping he could ignore it, he started typing on the computer again. Just as he had convinced himself he was in fact, 'losing it', he felt the two hands again. He didn’t move. They caressed his neck, soothing the tense muscles there. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned back in the chair once more.

' _Fuck it,_ ’ he thought, ' _I need this_.’ The hands continued to rub his neck then moved down his back, which had started cramping up as well. Slowly, gently, the hands kneaded his body, and Rhett felt the tension flow out of him. He sighed with contentment, uncaring if he was crazy or not. After a while, the massage ended, the hands pulled away, and the pain in his body was only a memory. He stretched his arms, lazily.

“Best ghost ever,” he whispered to himself, then laughed at the thought. He had to face it: either he was going mad, or his house was haunted. Either way, he was fine with that. It was hard to get mad at a mind, or poltergeist, that treated him so well.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a beautiful Saturday the day Rhett was finally going to have a prospective buyer at the house. He had cleaned the entire abode up and down twice, and over the preceding week had managed to box up all of Link’s things and store them away in the basement. He meant to do it earlier, but it had taken him a long time to even start looking through his friend’s things. It seemed so heartless, rummaging through the belongings, knowing that most of them would be tossed away. Anything Link’s family wanted from his possessions they had already taken months ago, and there really wasn’t much left.

Rhett thought about throwing everything into the garbage, just to be done with it, but he found he couldn’t part with anything. Instead, he carefully placed Link’s stuff side by side his own, telling himself he would deal with it when he actually moved. Deep inside he knew he would probably end up taking some of it, if not all of it, with him to Montana. He just wasn’t ready to let go.

Still, having the house ready to have strangers come in and poke around made him feel better. It was another step towards moving on with his life and the prospect of someone making an offer was quite uplifting. He showered and dressed, getting ready for the long day, almost ignoring the warmth that once again surrounded him. He somewhat took it for granted now that it was always there. It was like a pet he didn’t have to feed or cleanup after, unobtrusive but ever present, and it followed him wherever he went. He attributed it to his rise in mood, choosing to forget that it had been there even when he was sad, almost ever since he got back from North Carolina.

The doorbell rang around one o'clock and Rhett answered the door. His realtor, Mrs. Gable, was there along with two men in their mid-twenties. They introduced themselves as Thomas and Peter.

“Nice to meet you,” Rhett said, smiling, as they entered. He took their coats and hung them in the front hall closet by the door. “I’m Rhett McLaughlin, thanks for stopping by.”

“Thanks for having us.” Peter returned the smile and shook Rhett’s hand as Thomas and Mrs. Gable walked past into the living room. After a bit of small talk, Rhett gave everyone a short tour of the place. It was easy at first, talking about the house (Mrs. Gable gave most of the technical specifics of the place where needed) but when he got to Link’s old room, he felt a bit at a loss for words.

“This is, was, uh, my roommate’s old room,” he managed to say, while in the back of his mind he thought: ‘ _here’s where my dead friend slept._ ’

“Oh, I love this room,” Peter exclaimed, grinning broadly. “This would be just perfect, wouldn’t it Tom? We can put our bed right there!” He grabbed the other man’s arm, lovingly, his eyes hopeful. Rhett was a bit confused. He didn’t want to be impolite, but he was too curious not to ask.

“Are you two a couple?” Rhett asked. Mrs. Gable gave him a look that other men couldn’t see. He shrugged back when they weren’t looking. He didn’t mean anything by it, he was just wondering. Luckily, neither guest seemed to take offense. In fact, they both were smiling sheepishly, like newlyweds on their honeymoon.

“Been together for four years now.” Thomas gave a small hug to Peter. “This is our first place together though.” Rhett smiled back at them. They were so happy together, so in love, and not ashamed at all that they were both men.

‘ _It must be nice to be who you are and be with the person you love,_ ’ he thought to himself. As he had countless times before, he wondered what his own life would have been like had he and Link been a couple. For a brief moment, he pictured his friend with him, in this very room, back when they first moved in.

Rhett and Link had decided the live together out of necessity. For one thing, it was a great deal cheaper than buying two houses, but while it was a big deal to Link to save money, Rhett was just thrilled to be living with his best friend, and secret crush, just a room away. Thinking back, he felt he had been so naive back then, thinking he could somehow make Link love him the way he loved Link. He had pictured it to be like one of those cheesy romance novels where two people who lived together would always end up falling in love with one another. ‘ _Surely,_ ’ he had thought, ‘ _Link will just fall into my arms one of these days._ ’ Very naive.

“Why did your roommate move out?” Thomas suddenly asked, bringing Rhett back to the present. He just stared for a few seconds, unable to say the words that would easily answer the question. Luckily Mrs. Gable jumped in and saved him.

“Why don’t I show you the kitchen, okay?” she asked. The young couple agreed, somewhat unhappy that their valid question had not been answered. Mrs. Gable lead them into the other room, but Rhett stayed behind. He was certain that once they were out of earshot, she would explain exactly why this two bedroom house was devoid of a second tenet. As he waited for enough time to pass for that conversation to be completed without him, he sat down on the bed, his hands slightly shaking.

“That could have been us, Link,” he whispered to the empty room. “Can you imagine? Just think if I had just told you how I felt instead of waiting…” He sighed and folded his hands together to calm them. “I’m sorry I never said anything…” He closed his eyes and pressed his face onto his hands as he gathered himself. Now was a terrible time to have an emotional break down and he really wanted this sale to go through.

After a moment, he felt a depression on the bed next to him. He lifted his head and he opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw there was no one there, just a feeling of warmth at his side. At first he thought he was just imagining things again, but when he looked down he saw a dent in the bed, as if someone was sitting down.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at the sight, and leapt to his feet in an instant. When he turned around again the imprint was gone, but the feeling of warmth still remained. He tried to say something, anything, but he could barely breathe.

“Mr. McLaughlin?” Mrs. Gable called from the other room. She must have finished her morbid conversation with the visitors. Rhett swallowed hard and shook his head. He couldn’t let himself believe that what he had seen had been real. He just couldn’t. Clinging to his denial, he straightened his shirt and headed out of the room to join the others.

Mrs. Gable was talking to the couple in living room by the door. They were collecting their jackets, obviously getting ready to leave. As Peter slipped on his shoes he turned to Rhett and smiled.

“Place looks great. Is there anything else we should know?”

“I don’t think so,” he said aloud, but at the same time he thought: ' _Yeah, my house is haunted._ ’

~ ~ ~

That night he thought again of Link’s old room as he lay in his own bed, unable to get to sleep. His eyes were closed, but instead of drifting off to sleep, he drifted into old memories where Link was still with him.

The two men had spent their first night in the house together in that room. Rhett’s own bed had fallen out of the U-haul during their road trip across the country, and had gotten massively dirty in the process. Since the mattress was old anyway he decided to just buy a new one, but until then he had to sleep somewhere. Since they had slept in hotel beds together before, usually due to management mix ups, it didn’t seem like a big deal to do it again, just for the night.

“Your double bed is quite a bit smaller than a queen bed, Link,” Rhett had noted. This would be the smallest bed that they had ever shared, and it made him very nervous.

“Well, it’s either that or one of us is sleeping on the floor, and I’m not doing that.” Link then climbed into bed as if to say 'conversation over’ and put his back right up against the wall to give his friend as much space as possible. Rhett sighed and got in next to him, immediately assuming his 'dead pharaoh’ pose.

Link, of course, was asleep almost instantly, but Rhett forced himself to stay awake for sometime, scared to fall asleep. He kept glancing over at his roommate, certain that as soon as he closed his eyes, he would be spooned in his sleep. Exhaustion from the move eventually caught up with him, however, and he fell into a pleasant slumber.

When he woke up the next morning, Rhett opened his eyes to find his friend curled up to him, his leg thrown over his own, almost brushing up against a very private area. This wasn’t a new occurrence. Like many times they shared a hotel bed, Link had ended up spooning him because he slept with reckless abandon. The taller man pulled his hands apart and started to move out of the embrace. Suddenly, the leg twitched, brushing up against his body, and Rhett felt an involuntary surge of arousal. Being so close to Link who was, however inadvertently, rubbing up against his groin, sent Rhett’s body into overdrive.

Biting his lip, desperate to stifle a moan, Rhett carefully maneuvered himself out from under his friend and left the room. As he hid in the bathroom, he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling of Link’s leg pressed against his member. He decided to take a shower and deal with his problem before leaving the room. It had been kind of a rush then, getting off with Link in the next room, ignorant of his roommate’s activities.

Now, thinking back at the memory, Rhett couldn’t help but think about Link pressed against him again. This time he didn’t need to hide. There was no one to hide from. Without opening his eyes, picturing the two of them in that small bed together, he moved his hand into his boxers and began to massage himself.

“Link,” he whispered. He had thought about his friend countless times over the past months, but this was first time since Link had been gone that he allowed himself to feel pleasure at his memory in this way. It had seemed so wrong before, but now, after such a long time, he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed release, and the old memory had turned him on all over again.

As he lay there, touching himself, he felt a hand on his foot, gentle but firm. He stopped and pulled his hands from his underwear, and opened his eyes to see what was interrupting him. There was nothing there but darkness, then he heard that familiar sound.

“Rhett…”

“What…” Rhett’s voice caught in his throat. This couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t. He licked his lips, noticing how dry they had become. As he tried desperately to make some sort of coherent sound, he felt a phantom touch again, this time on his leg. He shifted, involuntarily, but the feeling didn’t fade. Instead, it began to move slowly up his leg. It moved past his knee and kept going, slightly increasing in pressure.

Rhett tried to move, or speak, or do absolutely anything, but he felt paralyzed. As the invisible feeling moved over his thigh, it made a sharp turn and passed directly over his groin. A small groan escaped his lips as what could only be a hand began to rub him where he had not been touched in far too long.

' _Oh my god,_ ’ he managed to think, as this hand massaged him expertly. ' _I’m being fondled by a ghost._ ’ His member was eagerly responding to the delicate touch of his phantom friend; it had been years since anyone had touched him there, since anyone else had even come close. Part of him wanted to get up, run screaming from the room in terror, but the sensations were overwhelming his brain entirely. Ignoring the rational part of his mind, he closed his eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over him.

He lay back, completely heedless of his surroundings, unable to think about anything but the touch of this invisible force. After a few moments, the pressure in his boxers became too much. Without opening his eyes, he threw off the sheets, brought his hands to the waistband and maneuvered himself out of his underwear. For a few agonizing seconds, the soft pressure on his manhood disappeared and he feared he had scared off his unseen companion. Just as he was about to put his clothes back on, he felt a new sensation.

“Fuck!” Rhett exclaimed as his member was completely enveloped by something very soft and velvety. He opened his eyes, but nothing new had appeared. Still the sensation was unmistakable. His ghostly visitor was giving him head, and it was incredible. It moved slowly, at first, but began to move faster and faster. Rhett bucked his hips to match its rhythm, completely lost in the experience now. His hands instinctively moved to grab at the body that should have been there, but his fingers past through nothing but air. The mouth didn’t stop, taking more and more of Rhett into it and he could feel himself hit the back of an invisible throat and it brought him so close to the edge.

Between gasps and moans he muttered how close he was and abruptly the mouth disappeared, replaced by the invisible hand. It kept up the pace, pumping fast and hard until moments later he came, spurting all over his stomach and chest. He gave a soft, almost inaudible whine when he came, shuddering as his muscles ached, riding the ecstasy to its end. As the hand pulled away once more, Rhett lay back, panting, exhausted from the exertion.

“Gosh,” he muttered, chuckling softly to himself. He reached over the side of the bed to grab a shirt and cleaned off his torso. His face had a very satisfied grin plastered on his it, and it felt weird. He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he smiled a real, sincere smile. Wishing he could see who or whatever it was that had made him feel so wonderful, he looked around for any sign that his ghost lover was still there. “Wow,” he said, not sure if he was talking to himself or his visitor. Shrugging, he pulled his boxers back into place and threw the covers over his cooling body. 

Suddenly, the late hour combined with the his exhaustion and he couldn’t stay awake any longer. As his eyes fluttered closed, and he drifted back to sleep, he felt a soft pressure on his cheek. Then it, and the constant aura of warmth, vanished.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day Rhett woke up slowly as sunshine washed over his face. He felt peaceful in that early morning ignorance and lay there, unmoving, as the memories of last night came back to him. The voice, the touch, the intense bliss, it all came back and he felt himself smile. Surely it had been a dream, a wonderful, lucid, wet dream, but a dream nonetheless. Still he chuckled to himself, amazed he was able to have a dream like that, so real and so pleasant. He was glad his mind could still treat him so kindly.

He was in remarkably high spirits as he showered, humming some random tune that he couldn’t quite remember. He wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, just relishing in the warm waters as they cascaded wonderfully over his body. Steam filled the room, caressing him like a soft blanket and for a long time he just stood in the shower, happy to ignore the rest of the world for a little bit longer.

Eventually the water started turning cold and he had to get out. Reluctantly, he turned off the tap, pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out of the tub. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he turned to face the mirror which had fogged over while he was bathing. He froze when his eyes saw a single word had been etched into the dew on to glass. One single word.

HERE

The letters, written in all caps, were each the width of a human finger, clearly drawn while he had been otherwise occupied. He hadn’t heard the bathroom door open, and there was no window for someone to climb through, so it baffled him as to how this word, any word, could have appeared on his mirror. Pressing his lips together, angrily, Rhett shot out a hand and wiped across the glass, erasing the message completely.

His reflection stared back at him. It was angry, but also showed a hint of fear. Something was going on in his house, and he was frustrated that he couldn’t find a single reasonable explanation. Shaking his head, he tried to brush aside the notion of anything supernatural going on in favor of stress-induced hallucinations, but he couldn’t seem to convince himself.

~ ~ ~

After dressing in a grey t-shirt and jeans, Rhett went into the living room and found his guitar. He had left it out on display for decoration, but now he wanted to play. Maybe the music would take his mind off the letters on the mirror. He struck a few cords, making sure it was still in tune; he hadn’t played anything since moving back to California. He hadn’t meant to start playing anything in particular, but suddenly his hands began strumming the familiar cords to ‘Get You Back’, a melody he had not heard, let alone played, in years.

As his fingers effortlessly remembered the notes, he found himself trying to recall the words, a slightly more difficult task. True the song didn’t have a very complex script, but he was never one to remember his songs for longer than he needed to. He stumbled over a few phrases, but he didn’t care about that.

“Maybe I, should let it slide, but I’m gon’ get.. you.. back…” He paused, letting the guitar and his voice fall silent. It just wasn’t the same without Link’s voice to harmonize with. Plus the message of the song seemed to skew with his dear friend now gone. It was almost like wishing he could get him back somehow, but he knew that was impossible. Sadness crept over him again, and he stood to put his guitar away.

“Don’t stop,” whispered a tiny voice. Rhett whipped his head around, trying to find the source of the voice, but as always, he saw nothing. He hesitated, still halfway through putting the guitar back on its stand, unsure if he should do as the voice asked. It was the same voice he heard so many times before, but for the first time, he was hearing it in the light of day. After a moment, he sat back down on the couch, the instrument in his hands, but he didn’t play it. He just sat, and waited.

Seconds passed. He began to hear the ticking of the clock on the mantle more clearly through the thick silence as he strained to hear if the voice spoke again. Minutes went by, but there was nothing. Finally Rhett decided to put the guitar away, just as he had planned, but when he started to stand up again, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he froze.

“Please.” The voice again, softer this time, and much closer. In fact, it sounded as if it was talking right next to him. Rhett swallowed hard, trying to keep his fear of whatever was going on at the back of his mind while his curiosity took center stage. Trying not to think about whatever had just touched him, he began to play the song, from the beginning.

This time he found the words came more easily to him. His voice was hesitant at first, but it was soon filled with the confidence of certainty. The song was short and he got through it quickly. As he let the last note drift off, he opened his eyes; he hadn’t really noticed he had closed them. The warm aura, that he so often felt near him, was now very warm and where before it was all around, it seemed focused on one place: right next to him. As he turned his head he saw, right in that place, sitting on the couch next to him, was a translucent and nearly invisible figure he could hardly not recognize.

It was Link.

Rhett shot straight up, stumbling off the couch, dropping his guitar, and falling over the coffee table trying to get away from what must have been an illusion. As he lay on the floor, staring at the seated figure, it didn’t fade. _He_ didn’t fade. It had to be Link. Even though the image was barely there, his face was unmistakable. His shaggy black hair, his lopsided grin, his glasses, his eyes…

From his lower position, Rhett could see his friend, or what appeared to be his friend, was dressed in the same clothes he had worn that day months ago, just before he left to catch the train. He could just make out the teal, purple and magenta colors of his plaid shirt and the black of his jeans.

The image looked back down at him, a concerned look on its face. It slowly moved towards him, not making a single sound, and held out an arm as if to help him up. Rhett scooted back away as best he could, scared of what might happen should this thing touch him. As he moved out of range of the reaching arm, the image pulled back, now looking hurt. Its blue eyes, identical to those Rhett had seen almost everyday for his whole life, now turned away as the image’s mouth reflected the saddened frown of his dead friend.

“You’re not Link,” Rhett managed to say, as he settled up against the wall behind him. He was still frightened, but he was determined to take control of this situation. “You’re not real, you’re not here.” The image turned back, now looking somewhat confused, then spoke, using the voice that Rhett had been hearing this whole time.

“I’m real… I…” In mid-sentence, the image dissipated, like mist in the rain. Within mere moments, it was gone, and Rhett was alone in his living room once more. Moments later, just before silence filled the room completely, the voice spoke one final time, ever so softly. “I’m always here.”

As a deafening silence wrapped around him, Rhett lay on the floor, staring at the spot on the couch where the illusion, posing as Link, had been sitting. He ran the events over and over again in his mind, telling himself it was just his mind, it was just a hallucination, but his mind didn’t listen. Finally, his terror came back with a vengeance, gripping his body firmly. Without another glance at the couch, he sprang to his feet, ran to open the front door, and darted outside.

~ ~ ~

He didn’t look back. He didn’t make sure he had locked, or even closed the door behind him. He just ran to his car and started it up. Unsure where he was going, or what he was going to do, he just knew he had to get away, far away. Barely remembering to buckle his seat belt, Rhett sped through the streets, ignoring the honking of other drivers as he frantically drove off.

Rhett drove without a destination for several minutes, just trying to catch his breath. After awhile he started running through the list of locations he knew were nearby in his head. He didn’t want to go to any of his friends’ houses. What could he say? He was just chased from his house by the ghost of Link? They would think he’d gone nuts.

‘ _Maybe you have,_ ’ he thought. ' _After months of crying over your dead friend, you’ve finally lost it. Now what are you going to do? No matter where you go, no one is going to listen to you. No one is going to believe…_ ’ Mid-thought, he made a sudden choice and a sharp turn, pissing off a few unwary cyclists.

~ ~ ~

Less than twenty minutes on the road brought him to an unassuming building in the San Fernando valley. He pulled into a parking space out front and looked over at the green letters painted on the bay window glass.

'Valley Investigators of the Paranormal.’ The simple font and small print belied the unusual nature of the company within. Rhett sat in the car for a few minutes, second guessing his decision to come here, but eventually he got out of the car and headed inside.

On the surface, the shop looked like an odd antique store, with shelves covered in various knick-knacks and walls lined with strange art work. A box of discarded doll heads stared at him as he made his way to the counter where a blonde woman stood, cleaning an old cat figurine. She stopped and smiled as Rhett approached.

“Hi there. How are you today?”

“Fine um, is Erik here? I’m uh, an old friend. Rhett. From Rhett and Link… Good Mythical Morning?”

“Oh I remember you. You and that nice Link fellow had Erik on your internet show. He’s in the back. I’ll go tell him you're here. Won’t be a moment.” As she headed towards the back of the shop, Rhett tried to calm down. He was nervous about asking for this man’s help, but he didn’t know where else to turn. All this time he had been trying to deny his belief that a ghost was actually in his house, but he couldn’t avoid it any longer.

A few minutes later the woman returned with a short, dark-haired man beside her. He took Rhett’s hand and shook it firmly.

“Nice to see you again, Rhett. How can I help you?”

“Hi Erik," Rhett began. "I think I have a ghost problem.”


	5. Chapter 5

It was early afternoon when Rhett returned to his house accompanied by Erik and his team: Sue LePre, the woman he had met before, and Dan and Julie Hernandez, a married couple who had worked with Erik for many years. He was both amazed and extremely grateful that they were all willing to join him on such short notice and investigate the unexplained occurrences that had been happening.

As soon as he entered the house, taking note that the front door was closed but not locked despite the fact he didn't remember shutting it, he headed straight for the living room and the couch on which he had seen the image of Link. There was no sign that anyone had been there, other than himself. The coffee table was still pushed out of place, from when he tripped over it and his guitar lay on the floor where he had dropped it.

Erik and the others came up behind him, each wielding a different piece of equipment. While Julie placed an EMF detector on the coffee table, Dan set up a video camera at the entrance to the hallway, making sure he could see the entire living room. Sue pulled out a small device Rhett recognized as hand held voice recorder. She held it out in front of her and turned it on.

"This is Sue LePre from the house of Rhett McLaughlin, EVP session one." She nodded to Erik who turned to Rhett.

"Alright Rhett, everything's set up. Whenever you're ready, you can start." Rhett nodded the took a deep breath.

"Uh, hey spirit," he began. "Are you, uh... are you the ghost of Link?" He paused to give whatever might answer the space to do so. "What do you want?" Another pause. "Why are you in my house?" He glanced at Sue and she stopped the recording. Rhett held his breath as he waited to hear the playback. Everyone seemed to lean in as they listened for any response to his questions. Nothing. He let out a deep sigh.

"I didn't hear anything," he sighed, disappointed. "I don't understand. Before I didn't even need a recorder to hear him talk. I could hear him as clear as you can hear me."

"What you describe is a disembodied voice," Erik explained. "Maybe if you play your guitar again... Wasn't that what you were doing before, when you saw the apparition?"

"Yeah. Hang on." Rhett nervously picked up the instrument from the floor and began strumming the cords to 'Get You Back'. After a few moments, he started singing the words as well, hoping that would help. Meanwhile Julie, the resident empath, walked around the room, trying to get a read on the place. Everyone else just waited quietly, not wanting to interrupt.

After playing through the whole song, Rhett went silent, listening and looking for any sign that the ghost had reappeared. Again, nothing happened. He began to feel like a total idiot now. Maybe it had just been his imagination. As if reading his mind, Sue gave him an encouraging smile.

"Ghosts are seldom cooperative," she said. "Sometimes it just takes patience." The group settled in to wait and see if the spirit, poltergeist, or whatever it was, chose to reappear.

~ ~ ~

Hours passed with no luck, and no Link. Erik had suggested that Rhett go about his normal activities while they waited so he started up a Netflix documentary for them to watch. Julie walked throughout the house, occasionally coming back to the living room to report on her findings. She said she felt there wasn't anything dark in the house, but there was a sense that the place held both happy and sad memories. At one point she asked Rhett to talk more about his history with the place.

He was hesitant to give too many details, especially since his every word was currently being recorded by the camera in the doorway. He told them how he and Link moved in together years back and lived here while they worked on their internet show. Julie tried to get him to open up about his friend's death, but he couldn't bring himself to talk about it.

"Maybe Link's ghost wants you to talk about it," she suggested. "Maybe he wants you to accept what happened and move on. He could be trying to help you." Rhett understood that, but he still wasn't sure it really was Link. Surely if he friend was haunting this house, he would have made more of an effort to appear now that he needed him to. Erik and the others volunteered to stay over, just in case there was any activity in the night.

~ ~ ~

As he lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, he waited for the ghostly voice to speak to him again. His rational mind told him that there was no way this was real, that ghosts weren't real, but his heart was starting to catch up in the race for control. He wanted this to be real. He wanted this to be Link, the man he grew up with, the man he worked and lived with. The man he loved. If this was indeed his friend, maybe he could finally say the words that he wished he had said so many times before. The words he should have said.

There was fear as well, as he lay in the darkness, trying not to imagine the worst. He was afraid of what the ghost, if it was Link, would do if he told him how he felt. Surely there was no reason to hold back now, nothing left to lose, but still he was afraid. It wasn't a fear of losing his friend, he had already lost him. Death had taken him. No, he was afraid of the look on Link's face. One look of horror, or disgust from that man, alive or dead, could destroy his already very fragile soul.

Hours he waited, but eventually sleep took him, and he didn't wake until the next morning. Nothing woke him up, not a sound or a touch. The entire night passed completely without incident. He apologized profusely to Erik and the others, but they assured him that they would go over the tapes to look for anything unusual. They told him not to lose hope, that they weren't going to give up and neither should he.

They did leave behind a single voice recorder, for him to use if he should see or hear from the spirit again. As soon as they left, the house felt hollow again and an almost imperceptible creep settled in. Rhett found that he couldn't stand being in the house, he could barely stand himself. He had spent the night unsure if he wanted Link to appear or not, and felt both relieved and troubled that nothing had happened. He didn't even dream of Link, as he had so many nights before.

~ ~ ~

When he showed that morning, he expected to see another message drawn on the mirror, but nothing appeared. After staring at the fogged glass for a full minute, Rhett used his finger to write in the dew himself.

LINK

As the moisture condensed at the bottom of each letter, and the water trickled down the glass, it almost looked like tears dripping down. He let the word sit for a brief moment before erasing it with his hand. It seemed too close to symbolizing his own sorrow, and he couldn't stand it.

Later, after a quick breakfast, he sat on the couch and stared at his guitar. Maybe if he played again, Link would appear. It was possible that the spirit, or whatever it was, didn't want to be seen by strangers. Slowly Rhett picked up the instrument and moved it into position. His fingers trembled from nervousness, but he managed to play 'Get You Back' just fine anyway. Nothing happened.

"Come on, Link," he muttered. "If you're there, come out. Are you there, buddy?" He changed to another song, hoping it would make a difference. When nothing happened again, he played another song, then another and another. He played every song he could remember how to play, singing along with most of them, but nothing worked. After awhile he moved to put the guitar away, thinking maybe that would get the ghost to appear, but still nothing. Frustrated, he set it aside and just sat there for a long time, unsure what to do next.

Eventually Rhett got tired of doing nothing and got up to fetch his laptop. He figured that if he was going to be waiting for Link to reappear, at least he could be productive. Laying down on couch, trying not to think about how his back was pressed against the very cushion the image had been sitting on the day before, he began browsing the internet for houses for sale in Montana. He had never really picked a place yet to move to.

He pulled up one of the house hunting websites and browsed through the homes he had bookmarked awhile back. There were quite a few ones that were in his price range, and in good locations too. One in particular had caught his eye and he poured over its details, imagining himself living there. It was a small place, single bedroom, one and a half baths, no dining room, but it had a wonderful back yard overlooking a lake. He smiled, thinking about setting up a chair on the back porch and watching the sun set over the calm waters.

Though he was only mildly aware of it, the warm aura that had been absent since he freaked out over seeing Link on his couch had returned. It seemed to wrap around him, coming from nowhere and everywhere. It lingered as he continued to navigate the internet, checking out the neighborhood of this one house, seeing what jobs were available nearby. There were several that he could apply for.

' _This could be the one,_ ' he thought. It seemed perfect for his needs. Great location, short commute if he got a job in the nearby town. The only thing missing would be companionship. His slight raise in mood disappeared as his thoughts returned to his friend, the only companion he wanted by his side. He felt tears threatening to pour down his face, and he closed his eyes, trying to hold them back. He couldn't count the number of times he had cried over Link, and he didn't want to cry anymore.

"Why can't you just leave me alone?" He whispered to no one. For years, most of his life in fact, he never wanted to be apart from that man, but now he was desperate to free himself from his memory. It just hurt too much, and the thought that Link was somehow still here, seemingly hiding just out of sight, made it all the worse. At the same time, he wanted to see that image again, to talk to him. He had wasted what could have been his only opportunity to really speak to his friend, one last time, and that hurt most of all.

Standing up, he went and got the voice recorder the VIP guys had left for him to use. Maybe he could try again, without them here. Maybe Link only wanted to talk to him. Besides, he wanted to talk to him, and he wanted... No. He _needed_ to hear his voice again. He sat on the couch, exactly where he had been when he last saw that ghostly image, and turned on the recorder. Setting the recorder on the coffee table, he cleared his throat before starting.

"Link," he began. "I'm not even sure if you are there or not, but here it goes. I... I'm sorry I ran away before, when you appeared next to me, but I'm here now." He paused and swallowed, trying to keep his throat from getting all choked up. "If you're here too, please let me know. Give me some kind of sign." Another pause, as he listened for a response. "I need you with me. Please, Link." He let the recorder run for a minute, giving any spirits plenty of time to talk into it, before picking it up and rewinding it.

He listened to the playback, his ears straining to hear anything other than his own voice, but just like yesterday, there was nothing. He played it back again and again, each time hoping he had somehow missed a soft voice speaking to him, but each time he was disappointed. Finally, he had had enough, he picked up the small device and tossed it across the room. It shattered on the hard floor.

"Link!" he yelled, standing now. "Goddamn it man, I need you!" The tears he had tried so hard to hold back came streaming down his face. His heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces all over again. As he fought to regain self control, he whispered: "I need you... I love you." The silence that followed seemed to echo through his soul, and he couldn't hold on any longer. As he had so many times before, he curled up on the floor, buried his face in his hands, and cried.


	6. Chapter 6

That night, as Rhett lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling once again, he thought back to when he had been touched by that invisible force not long ago. It hadn't been the first time he had felt the touch of something he couldn't see. There had been many times since moving back from North Carolina that he had felt the passing of a hand on his arm, or back, and then there was that amazing massage when he was working on the computer. None of them were like that one night, however, when something, or someone, had done to him what few people had ever done.

' _Had that been Link?_ ' he wondered. Surely that was an even crazier idea than having the ghost of his friend haunting his house. As long as he had known Link, he'd been as straight as an arrow, dating more often than Rhett, and always girls. Not that Rhett had never dated a girl, but it had been a long time since he had thought about them in that way. Not since he fell in love with his best friend.

Curiosity, more than anything else, brought strange and erotic ideas to his head as he thought more and more about that night. It had been so real, so amazing, but the next day he had brushed it off as a dream. What if it hadn't been? What was it then? His heart started racing as he thought about trying to make it happen again, if only to make the invisible presence return, and prove to himself that it had been real.

Playing on his hunch, Rhett pulled away the covers and brought a nervous hand to his groin. He wasn't particularly turned on at the moment, but he figured if this was what made the phantom appear last time, maybe it would work again. Closing his eyes, he started picturing Link, the one man that was certain to help him get more aroused. His mind was telling him he was insane for trying to summon a spirit by jerking off, but he ignored it. He had to know, he had to be sure, and he felt he had tried everything else.

As he slowly massaged himself, thinking about Link, about those amazing blue eyes and that boyish grin, Rhett began to imagine it was he that was touching him. He had seen him shirtless many times, even naked (accidentally) a few times, and he had saved those memories of his friend for moments where he found himself alone and in need of release. So many times he had touched himself while thinking about Link, only to cry out his name as he came. Each time he wished he could have been touching him for real.

After awhile, he forgot all about doing this to make the ghost reappear and got lost in his fantasies. He didn't notice as the warm aura got stronger in the room as he got closer to finishing. He didn't notice when an indentation formed on the mattress next to him when he started moaning between short breaths. It wasn't until he started whispering Link's name to the darkness that he sensed something was sitting next to him. He opened his eyes.

Leaning on an arm, almost in the Lionel Richie pose, was the same ghostly figure looking down at him that had been sitting on his couch two days before, wearing the same plaid shirt and skinny jeans. Rhett immediately stopped what he was doing, ignoring his body's cries to continue, and pulled the covers back over himself. The image gave a small smile and stared into his eyes.

"Rhett," it whispered. It looked like it was talking at full volume, but sounded so soft. Rhett felt the fear like before, the urge to run, but held himself in check. He wasn't going to waste this opportunity again.

"Link, is... is that you?" He brought a hand towards the image, forgetting what he had just been doing with that hand.

"It's me. I've been trying to find you." The image flickered, and his face looked slightly strained.

"Don't leave me, Link. It's a miracle you're here with me. I can't let you go now." His heart pounded in his chest and he felt a wave of emotion wash over him. Without thinking, he moved his hand to the side of Link's face. Strangely, he radiated neither heat nor cold, but Rhett could feel the rough stubble on his face. "I can't lose you again."

"I'm here." He placed a hand on Rhett's thigh, then leaned forward and pressed his translucent lips on his friend's bearded ones. It was soft, at first. Then, as Rhett surrendered to the situation, it became more passionate. Sensation radiated throughout his body as he brought his hands to the ghostly figure. He had dreamt of kissing this man's lips countless times over the years. This was no dream, but surely it couldn't be real either. Pulling away, he looked into those familiar blue eyes, trying to get a read on them.

"Link..." he began, once their lips had parted. The ghost moved his hand from Rhett's leg to his chest, not really paying attention to his talking. "I don't understand. You're straight. You were straight..."

"I want you." He met the man's gaze again and Rhett could see desire in his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes that had captivated him for so many years. He had wished so many times that those eyes would look at him that way.

"I want you too. Oh god, I've wanted you so many times, for so long..." Link pressed their lips together once more, their eyes closed, and all words were lost. As he kissed him, Rhett felt the pressure of a tongue against his teeth, and he opened his mouth, eagerly. He no longer cared if this was real or not. If this was a dream, it was going to be a good dream.

He pressed his hands against Link and he could feel the soft texture of his shirt. His fingers found the hard buttons and expertly unbuttoned them. As he slid the phantom cloth from his friend, it faded into mist, revealing a bare chest covered in rugged black hair. Link giggled. He rolled back and began maneuvering out if the rest of his clothes and they faded away as well, once they were removed from his body.

His ghostly visage was magnificent, seemingly untouched by the ravages that had left him in this state months ago. Rhett now stared unabashedly at his naked friend, drinking in the sight he had longed for almost his whole life. Moving forward again, Link pulled away the covers then brought his hands to the other man's waistband and slowly removed the underwear that had suddenly grown too small for him. Rhett gasped as Link then straddled him, his body tingling everywhere. He sat up, embracing the man on top of him, and barely letting himself breathe as he kissed him deeply.

Link seemed insatiable. Rhett had never experienced a make out session quite like it. He realized it was because his friend, unlike himself, didn't need oxygen. Breaking away, he paused to catch his breath and was panting heavily.

"You taste so good," Link said.

"You don't really taste like anything, but you feel incredible." Rhett ran his hands down the man's arms, slowly, savoring the touch of skin on skin. "I want..." He hesitated. Could he really ask for what he had wanted so badly? Link pressed his lips against his neck, not really kissing, and whispered softly.

"I know what you want." He slowly pressed forward against Rhett's chest and kissed him deeply. As he moved forward, putting Rhett on his back, he brought himself up on his hands and knees. From his new position, he ground his hips, rubbing their groins together. For a moment he stopped kissing to gaze in his lover's eyes and they both knew there was no going back now.

"You're amazing," Rhett managed to say between thrusts. "God, Link. I can't take it anymore. I need you... I need..." Link cut him off with another series of sensual kisses. Carefully, so as to not hurt his lover, he brought himself to the man's entrance and started pressing in. Rhett gave a small grunt and he paused, feeling muscles tighten up.

For a moment, Link hesitated, but Rhett begged him not to stop. He had been with men before, on those rare occasions when Link had been away and his loneliness had eaten away at him. He had taken strangers to his bed to ease the pain of his unrequited love. In those times of weakness, he had always been the giver, never the taker, and he was unused to the sensation, but he wanted this now. He wanted him, it was just new.

Using one hand to massage his manhood, Link kissed lines down Rhett's chest. When he felt Rhett's muscles relax, he pressed forward again, slowly. As he worked his way in, he pumped his hand up and down the man's member, which was already leaking small drops of precum.

He was gentle at first, sliding in and out of his friend, but as Rhett's moans grew louder and more intense, he began to ride him harder and faster. The lack of lubrication didn't seem to matter. The ghostly member was almost without friction, and it felt amazing. Suddenly it hit a sweet spot and Rhett called out in ecstasy.

"Fuck, Link, you... Oh my god, fuck!" His words quickly devolved into incoherent mutterings. Link seemed equally lost, seemingly only able to emit low grunts and the occasional intense moan. As Rhett got close to finishing, he looked up, staring into the face he had fantasizes about coming with and saw his normally translucent form looked almost solid, and he could feel the warmth of his body pressed against him.

"Rhett." Link leaned in, his hand still wonderfully pumping away. "I'm so close." Rhett rocked his hips and their bodies melded into the sweetest rhythm.

"Come for me, Link," his whispered in a deep baritone voice. Link squeezed his eyes tightly as his body clenched hard. His face scrunched beautifully in rapture and as he came, filling up Rhett with his ghostly essence, and his guttural moan was more than Rhett could take. He came hard, covering his lover in his own sticky fluids.

As their orgasms faded from climax, Link draped himself over Rhett's body, his head lying on his shoulder, and kissed his beard tenderly. Rhett wrapped him arms around the not-quite-ghostly figure and held him tight.

"I love you, Link," he said. Link purred and lifted his head slightly.

Link opened his eyes, but when he did, his serene smile disappeared, replaced by confusion. "Rhett..."

"What? What is it?" Rhett wondered.

"Rhett..." His eyes looked scared, at something Rhett couldn't see. He started pulling away.

' _No,_ ' he thought. ' _Not now. Not when we're finally together._ ' He tried to hold Link closer, but his newly solidified form was fading fast.

"Rhett..." His voice was so soft, growing more distant.

"Link no, don't go, don't leave me again. Link!" Desperately he grasped at his friend, but now his hands passed though nothing but air. As he watched helpless, the man he loved, to whom he finally told those three words he had wanted to say, dissipated into a fine mist and then was gone.

Rhett stared at the empty void where that man had been for a long time. He felt his heart torn to pieces in his chest. This time he didn't cry. He didn't have any tears left, it seemed. Instead, he screamed until his throat was raw, cursing the whatever higher power had taken his angel from him one last time. He could feel it in his soul. Some how he just knew. He would never see the ghost of Link ever again.

Meanwhile, in another place, Link opened his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

It took few seconds for Link’s eyes to understand what they were looking at. A bright light was shining above him from a white, unfamiliar, ceiling. He could hear a soft beeping noise nearby, and air being forced through a valve. Footsteps clomped back and forth echoing in a hallway he couldn’t see, and a woman’s voice over a loudspeaker was making repeated attempts for someone he didn’t know to dial some number or another.

He tried to turn his head, to see more of the room in which he found himself in, but his neck seemed fastened in place. He tried to call out, but his throat was blocked and he could only gurgle unintelligibly. He raised his arms and felt a sharp pain in the right one, so he placed it back down. The left one lifted with no problem and he squinted his eyes to see it. Obviously he didn’t have his glasses on, and it frustrated him even further.

As he continued to struggle to make clear words come out of his mouth, he heard another woman’s voice, much closer. A face came into view, but he couldn’t make out the details very well.

“Oh my god,” said the voice. “Jamie, you’re awake.” Link didn’t understand, but had no way to ask what she was talking about. Before he could attempt anything, the face pulled away. He could heard footsteps walking away from him. “Nurse? Doctor! He’s awake! Someone, anyone come quick! I need help, he’s awake! My baby’s awake!”

A few moments later, he heard the footsteps coming back, joined by a second, louder set, accompanying it. He struggled to move his eyes so that he could see, but in vain. He heard a new voice, this time a man speaking but, like the others, he didn’t recognize it.

“Incredible. Mr. Dunnick? Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can hear me?” Confused, Link didn’t respond. His name wasn’t Mr. Dunnick, it was Link! Or, at the very least Charles. A wave of panic washed over him and he raised his left arm to try and find out what was holding him down. “Calm down Mr. Dunnick.” Someone grabbed his arm and held it back. “Mrs. Dunnick please stand back. Mr. Dunnick? I’m going to take this tube out of your mouth. Can you cough for me?”

Link felt the thing in his throat start to move and he coughed, mostly on instinct. He gagged as it was finally removed but immediately felt better, now that it was gone. He swallowed, testing out his esophagus, and licked his lips with his newly freed tongue.

“That’s much better, isn’t it, Mr. Dunnick? Can you try to speak? Do you know where you are?”

“Link…” he managed to say. His throat still hurt from having that tube inside it, and he found it difficult to get his vocal cords to obey him. He coughed again, trying to clear his throat.

“What did he say?” asked the woman’s voice.

“I’m not sure,” the man’s voice came again. “Let me get this restraint off of you. I don’t think you need it anymore.” Link saw an arm pass over him, then heard Velcro being undone. As the arm pulled away again, his head felt suddenly heavy, as if it was under its own weight and hadn’t been before. Now able to turn his head he looked, first to the right, then the left.

To his right stood a short figure, he could just make out that it was a woman in dark clothing. To his left was a much taller figure, most likely the man, wearing a long white coat. He didn’t recognize either of them.

“Who…?” he started. “Where..?”

“I’m Doctor Litin,” the man said. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve been here for some time.”

“Jamie.” Link turned his head again to look at the woman who was leaning over him now. “Sweetie, you’ve been in a coma. Do you remember anything?” Link tried to think. He remembered lots of things. He knew his name was Charles Lincoln Neal the third, he was from North Carolina, living in California, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to be here, wherever here was.

“How long?” he asked.

“Six months. You were in an accident, in the metro train. It was a miracle you survived.”

“Your mother has stuck by you everyday, Mr. Dunnick,” the doctor said. “We weren’t sure if you were ever going to wake up, but she never lost faith in you. Welcome back, Jamie.”

“Neal.” He couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s that?”

“My name is Charles Neal.” The doctor looked over to the woman. She patted Link’s hand and he could feel hers staring to shake.

“Jamie, sweetie…”

“My name. Is Charles. Lincoln. Neal.” He looked away from the woman, trying to meet the doctor’s eyes with his own. He didn’t know where he was, or who this ‘Jamie’ person was, but he was determined to make it clear that they had the wrong man.

~ ~ ~

Eventually the doctor escorted the woman out of the room. She had burst into tears and Link couldn’t help but feel for her. He was sorry, but he couldn’t change the fact that he was not her beloved Jamie. Once she was gone, the doctor returned and proceeded to interrogate Link about his identity. It soon became clear that a horrible mix up had occurred.

Apparently, after the train crash, Link’s body had been found unconscious, and brought to this hospital. The woman, Mrs. Dunnick, identified him as her long lost son, Jamie. Since the EMTs didn’t find any identification on him, they checked him into intensive care under that name. He had been in this bed, in a coma, ever since.

The doctor ran Link’s full name in the computer. It turned out that one Charles Neal had been recovered from the wreckage of the train, but he was declared dead at the site. That body, mangled and burned, had been given to the Neal family, who were none the wiser. Link felt horrible. He thought about his family, believing him dead, and going on with their lives without him. Then he thought about Rhett.

If everyone believed Link had died, then Rhett must have thought so, too. What was he doing now? How had he taken the news? Link was determined to get back to his life, his family and friends, to tell the whole world that he was, indeed, still alive. Unfortunately, the doctors wouldn’t let him leave just yet. They wanted to run more tests, to make sure he was alright. It wasn’t every day that someone woke up from a coma after six months. They assured him his family would be notified and that everything would be taken care of.

After he told one if the nurses about his optical needs, the staff managed to get him a pair of temporary glasses, close to his prescription. They weren’t ideal, but at least he could see better. He was glad that he could make out the room around him, even if distant objects were still a bit blurry.

The first thing he noticed was an I.V. in his right arm. He winced at the sight, but tried not to think about it too much. To his right was large machine, beeping softly in concert with his heart beat. It was obviously monitoring his life functions, but aside from telling him that his heart was still working, he couldn’t make out what the different numbers meant. To his left was a small side table. Various cards and flowers decorated it, no doubt there to wish him well. A small portrait sat next to it all. In it stood an elderly woman, probably the woman who had been there before, and a young man with black hair and blue eyes. In fact, the man looked a great deal like Link who, for just a second, had thought it was himself, only without glasses. No wonder they thought he was him.

While he waited for the test results to come back, and the doctors to let him leave, Link was visited by a younger woman, a nurse with blonde hair and a nice smile. She was carrying a tray with some metal tools on it.

“I thought you’d like a shave,” she explained, showing Link a pair of scissors from the tray. “I don’t know if you have a beard normally, but I’m guessing you don’t usually have one that bushy.” She picked up a small mirror and handed it to Link. He gazed at his reflection and almost didn’t recognize himself. His hair was long and unkempt, and his beard was full enough to give Rhett’s a run for its money.

“Oh man, look at me! This has got to go.” With the tools the nurse gave him, and a great deal of time, Link managed to not only get rid of the beard entirely, he was able to get his hair almost back to normal. When he was done, he looked at the mirror and smiled. ' _Finally,_ ’ he thought. ' _Someone I know._ ’

When he got the chance, he called his mother on the phone. She was dumbfounded, to say the least. After she got over the initial shock, and after crying for joy that her boy wasn’t gone, she told him that she was going to go out and get on the first plane out to California. Link said he could just as easily fly out to North Carolina, but she insisted he shouldn’t fly so soon after getting out of the hospital.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Will you still be in the hospital?” Link thought about it for a moment.

“The doctors say I can leave soon. I’ll call you when I know…” He stopped short. ' _What? Know where I live now?_ ’ He didn’t have a clue where Rhett was. He hoped that he was still living in the same house as before. What if he had moved? Six months was a long time, perhaps too long.

' _No,_ ’ he told himself. Rhett was his oldest and dearest friend. ' _He’s still there. I can feel it._ ’ 


	8. Chapter 8

Early the next morning, Rhett woke to hear his house phone ringing. He grumbled into his pillow, determined to ignore it. For a few blissful moments, he didn’t know anything, but then the memories of last night, the past month, his whole life came flooding back. Last night had been the best night of his life. It had been the worst night of his life. He didn’t know if it had been real or not, but the sensation that he had lost his friend all over again in still lingered.

The phone rang again. He grabbed the pillow from under his head and pressed it against his face, trying to shut out the sound. The ringing didn’t stop. Even when it had gone to voice mail several times, it kept ringing. Someone was obviously trying to get ahold of him. With an exasperated sigh, he rolled over in bed to check the caller ID. It wasn’t a name, just a number he didn’t recognize.

“Leave me alone,” he whined. When the phone rang for what felt like the millionth time, he reached down and unplugged it from he wall. Finally, silence. Or so he thought. It wasn’t long before his cell phone started ringing. He grunted, angrily, as he picked up the offending piece of technology. The same number appeared on the screen. He hit the ‘ignore call’ icon then turned off the phone and set it down, rather roughly, on the night stand.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone. He just wanted to wallow in his misery. He hadn’t felt this low since he'd gotten back from Link’s funeral. Back then he had locked himself up in his house and cried for so long. He didn’t cry now, but his heart felt just as hollow as it had then. Hollow and empty. He was still in bed when he heard the doorbell ring, an hour later. For a moment he thought about ignoring that too, but he just couldn’t do it.

' _Stupid world,_ ’ he silently grumbled to himself. ' _Why can’t you just go away?_ ’ He shuffled his way downstairs to the front door, ready to say something rather rude to whomever had the gall to disturb his solitude, and opened door.

His heart stopped. Two men stood on the other side of the entryway. One was a young man dressed in scrubs. He was holding onto the other man, helping to keep him standing straight. That other man was Link.

' _Link…_ ’ Rhett thought he had said it aloud, but his lips hadn’t moved.

“H-hey, Rhett. Long time no see.” Link gave a sheepish little grin, as he wobbled slightly in place. For a moment Rhett couldn’t breathe. He looked at Link, then the other man. This couldn’t be a ghost, the other man was touching him, like he was real. This couldn’t be real. This was real…

“Link…” he finally managed to say.

“I know man. It’s really me. I’m here.” His smile grew more confident as he gazed up at his best friend. Rhett couldn’t think of anything else to say. Completely on instinct, he swooped down and wrapped the shorter man in his arms, holding him tightly, as if to keep him from escaping. The man in scrubs stepped back to give them room.

“You’re here. You’re really real… and here, and real!” Rhett felt tears streaming down his face as struggled to form complete sentences. Link returned the hug, albeit with weaker arms. Months of lying in bed, doing nothing, had left his muscles somewhat atrophied.

“I’m real, Rhett! I’m okay. I’m okay!” He patted Rhett’s back until he let him go. Then he turned to the nurse and thanked him. Link could take it from here.

After the nurse left, and they went inside, Rhett barely gave his friend any space. He couldn’t understand exactly what was going on, even after Link spent a long time explaining about the coma and the mistaken identity. That was all well and good, and made perfect sense, but if Link was never dead in the first place, then who or what had visited him last night?

“I was afraid you had moved,” Link was saying, bringing Rhett back to the present. “I lost my phone, wallet and keys. I was going to have a tough time if you weren’t here.”

“I was in North Carolina for awhile. Then I moved back here. I was thinking of selling the place…”

“Couldn’t afford the mortgage without me, I suppose.” He smiled and Rhett smiled back. Sure. That was the reason. Not the fact that everything reminded him of the man he loved, and thought dead, and he couldn’t stand to be here without him. “I guess you didn’t keep the show going without me, then.”

“It wasn’t the same.”

“Yeah…” Link smiled, lost in his thoughts for a second, then turned back to Rhett. “You want to go back to that? What we were doing before?”

' _Before?_ ’ Rhett thought. ' _You mean back when I secretly pined after you, lusted after you, and you were completely oblivious to my deep seated love for you? That before? Is that what you mean?!_ ’

To Link he smiled and said, “sure. I mean, I think that’d be great.”

~ ~ ~

It was going to be a few hours before Link's mother would arrive, and he normally took his showers in the evening, but felt gross. He knew the nurses at the hospital had given him daily sponge baths (he tried not to think about that) but he wanted a real bath. Something with bubbles. Rhett led him up the stairs and leaned him against the sink as he bent down and starting running a bath for him. He knew Link could probably start the water himself, but he wanted to help.

“Let me know if you need anything,” he said, standing up again. “I’ll be right across the hall.” Link nodded but didn’t move. He seemed distracted, staring at the mirror and his own reflection. Rhett wanted desperately to hold him, kiss him, or at least tell him about what had been going on in this house in his absence. There was so much that needed to be said, but he could tell his friend was still a bit out of it and he wanted to give him time.

As he waited for Link to finish, Rhett made a few phone calls to his former employees. While they all had new jobs now, they were all overjoyed at the news that Link was still alive and most of them we’re willing to come work for the duo again. It seemed as though things really were going to go back to normal.

After hanging up the phone for the last time, Rhett laid back in bed and tried to put together the pieces of the puzzle that was last night, and the days preceding. He had spent so much time telling himself that ghosts weren’t real, that what was happening was all in his mind. Then, as soon as he had accepted that his friend was actually haunting him, reality snapped back again. Had it been a dream? He couldn’t accept that. He had been awake. Right?

He heard the sound of the tub staring to drain and he got up to find some if Link’s old clothes. He was glad he hadn’t thrown them away like he had planned. He grabbed a change of clothes for his roommate, as well as an old pair of glasses. When he got back to the bathroom the door was open and Link was standing in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around his waist. As Rhett watched, Link brought a single finger to the glass and wrote in the dew a single word.

HERE

Rhett couldn’t believe it. It looked exactly like the letters he had seen drawn on his mirror just days ago, when he was alone in his house. He looked at Link. The man was looking at the letters, as if trying to figure something out.

“Why did you do that?” Rhett finally asked. Link looked at him, with a slightly confused expression on his face.

“It was a dream I had, while I was in the coma. I had lots of dreams…”

“Like what?” Rhett took a step closer and placed the clothes he had brought next to the sink, placing the replacement glasses on top. Link blushed and turned away.

“Lots of things. I… I dreamt I was here, in this house. I dreamt about… You were playing your guitar.” Link gave an embarrassed laugh. “I guessed I missed you.”

“I dreamt about you, too.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Link turned to face him, his blue eyes meeting his own.

“Yeah? Anything I should know about?” He gave a small smirk, but there was something behind the grin… something…

“I dreamt you gave me a back rub.” It wasn’t a lie, really. Surely it had to have been a dream. “While I was on my computer, downstairs.” Link’s smile faltered, slightly.

“I dreamt that, too…”

“I dreamt I was playing the guitar, on the couch. When I went to put my guitar away, I turned around and you were there. You told me not to stop playing.”

“I scared you.” Link's smile was completely gone now, his eyes glazed over, remembering. “You tripped over the coffee table…”

“I dropped my guitar," Rhett continued. "I was so scared. I ran out of the house.” Both men were inches apart now, both beginning to realize…

“I dreamt that.” Link looked up at his friend, his eyes searching for confirmation. The truth seemed so close now. Rhett swallowed hard, then decided to take a chance.

“I dreamt other things, Link,” he started, his voice quiet and uncertain. “I dreamt you were next to me, when I… when I was in bed.” He paused, giving his friend a moment to process, an opportunity to end this conversation, but he just stood there, waiting. “I dreamt you…”

“I… What did you dream? Tell me.” Rhett tried to form words, but his throat closed up. Instead, he tentatively took Link’s face in his hand. He didn’t pull away, so Rhett leaned down and pressed his lips softly against those he had supposedly only dreamt of touching. Unlike those ghostly lips, these were warm as well as soft. For a moment, he was lost in the thrill of kissing them, but then he realized they weren’t moving with his own. He pulled back. Link was in shock, staring at him, but he looked neither mad nor disgusted. He just looked surprised. After a second of processing, he swallowed and licked his lips before speaking.

“I dreamt that, too.” He waited for Rhett to say something, but he didn’t know what to say. “Rhett, what is happening?”

“I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead and gone and never coming back. Then I moved back here and… Things started happening. I heard your voice, I saw your face, I felt… I…” Rhett felt his face turning red. “I didn’t dream those things, Link. I thought it was your ghost.”

“You thought I was haunting you?” Link thought about that for a moment. “Sounds like something I’d do.” He picked up the spare glasses and put them on. When he looked back, he was smirking, suddenly and Rhett couldn’t help but start to smile again.

“But it couldn’t be your ghost, 'cause you’re not dead. You’re alive.” He put his hands on Link’s bare shoulders, as if to prove the man was indeed alive and here in the flesh.

“Rhett, I have to know something.” He looked down to his hands. “I don’t know what happened while I was in that coma, but I think somehow you and I were connected. I know it sounds crazy..”

“I’ve been feeling crazy for weeks now.”

“In one of my dreams, or whatever. You told me something. I mean, you said lots of things but… If it happened. If what I experienced was in anyway real, you’ll know what I’m talking about.” Rhett hesitated. He had said many things, many of which weren’t repeatable in polite company, but after a split second he realized what Link was talking about. He took that beautiful jawline in his hand and tilted his face upwards, forcing their eyes to lock once again.

“I said I love you, and I do Link. I told you right after we, uh…” He paused, unsure if he should mention it, but Link gave him a smile that was, at once, both embarrassed and mischievous.

“Yeah, I remember that too. I don’t think I…” He tilted his head. “I didn’t tell you how I felt.” Standing on his tip-toes to reach the man above him, he kissed him gently on the lips. Rhett leaned into this kiss, breathing in the sweetness of him, basking in his presence.

Whatever had passed between them was altogether strange and magical. While Link’s body was away, his soul had found its way back home, back to Rhett. There was something between them that was both intangible and unbreakable. It was connection forged over a lifetime and tempered by the purest of friendships. After a moment, he pulled away and looked down at his best friend and love. He gazed into his dazzling sapphire eyes, hoping this was what he had always hoped for.

“I love you,” he whispered. He didn’t just say it because it was true. He didn’t even say it because he wanted to say it, and keep on saying it, which he did. He said it because he needed to hear Link say it back. Link held him close, resting a cheek on his chest, and gave a small sigh.

“I love you, too. I guess I always have, I just didn’t understand how much until I was trapped in that coma, lost in a never ending dreamscape. I felt so lost, not sure where I was, or where you were. I was always calling out for you, trying to find you. Then I heard you, calling out my name in the dark…” Rhett thought about that, then took his friend’s face in his hand and lifted his chin so that their eyes met again.

“Maybe it was a dream. A phenomenal dream, but not real.” Link frowned at the suggestion, but Rhett continued. “I have been dreaming my whole life. Dreaming about you, about us. I don’t want to dream anymore. I want the real thing.” The shorter man looked away for a moment, but when he looked back, he was smiling again.

“I want that, too. I dreamt we… we were… we did things.” He blushed, and Rhett felt his own face get warm, remembering the things that they did. “If it wasn’t real, then…” Rhett kissed his friend on the forehead, to reassure him. “Then I want to do it for real,” he finished. 

“What are you saying?” Rhett asked. With a mischievous look on his face, Link leaned in close.

“I think you know,” he whispered. Rhett bit his lip as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest.

“Your room or mine?”

The End


End file.
